All Chapters of Claimed By The Mafia Don: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Lucia’s POV The hours turned into days, but I stayed in my room. Not because I was still in pain, I had already healed from the bruises. But because I didn’t know what else to do. This estate felt like a golden cage, and even though no one had locked me inside, I wasn’t exactly free. The maids came and went, bringing food I barely touched. One of them, a young woman around my age, maybe twenty-three or twenty-four, stayed longer than the others. Her name was Alina. At first, she didn’t say much, just tidying my things, folding and refolding my clothes like she wasn’t sure what to say. But after a while, she spoke. “I know things have been hard for you,” she said, smoothing out a dress. Her voice sounded calm, but with a hidden warning. “This house is safe, but only if you know where you stand.” I turned to her, my arms crossed. “And where do I stand?” She met my eyes, her expression unreadable. “That depends. Are you smart enough to survive?” A cold chill settled in my ches

Lucia’s POVI could still feel Dante’s hand on my waist, even though he wasn’t anywhere near me now. The pressure and control lingered on my skin.The ball was suffocating. There were too many stares, the murmurs behind elaborate masks, the stench of power and corruption, it all made me sick in the stomach.I needed to get away, even if only for a few minutes. So I had excused myself to use the restroom. I leaned against the counter, tightening my fingers around the cool porcelain sink. Everything about this night was wrong.I hated the way some of the women looked at me.. was it pity? Envy? Disgust? I couldn’t tell, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to. And then there was the maid’s warning. I had no idea what she meant, but I wasn’t stupid enough to ignore the warning.Dante might think he owned me, that I was just some plaything to parade around, but I wasn’t going to sit back and let him decide my fate. If there was something—anything—that could give me an edge, I had to find it.Straig

Dante’s POVFive minutes. Then six. I checked my watch again, running a hand through my hair. Where the hell was she?With a tight jaw, I set my drink down and pushed off the counter. My eyes scanned the ballroom, the masked guests moving in a blur around me. Lucia was reckless, but she wasn’t stupid. She knew better than to test my limits.Another glance at my watch. I never should have let her go back for that damn purse. What if she had tried to run? The thought made my grip tighten around the gun at my side.No.She wouldn’t run. Not unless she was truly desperate. And if she was desperate, that meant something, or someone had given her the illusion of hope.I exhaled through my nose, jaw clenching. If she wasn’t coming to me, I’d go to her.I moved through the crowd, my patience wearing thin. The moment I stepped into the hallway, my eyes locked on her.Lucia.She stood frozen, her body stiff, but her lips parted just slightly told a different story. Her breath came unevenly, her

Lucia’s POVThe night had been merciless. Sleep had taunted me, dancing just beyond my reach as I lay tangled in my sheets, my body still trembling from the encounter with Dante. My mind refused to settle, replaying every touch, every whispered word, every second leading up to the moment he had stopped.Why?Why had he left? Why had he unchained me when he had me exactly where he wanted?I had tossed and turned, my wrists still sore from the cuffs, my pulse still uneven from the way he had looked at me before walking out. Part of me had been grateful he hadn’t gone through with it. The other part… the other part was terrified by what it meant.What had stopped him?By the time the first rays of morning light spilled through my window, I had given up on the idea of rest. My body ached with exhaustion, but my mind refused to quiet. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt him… his heat, his breath, the weight of his touch. It unsettled me… terrified me. But what scared me most was that a par

Lucia’s POVThe world had turned against my father. I couldn’t stop wondering what he was going through, or if he even knew what was happening.Every day, a new article came out, dragging Antonio Castellano’s name through the mud. Some called him a heartless criminal, a mentally deranged man who should be at rehab, others a coward who had run from his sins.Lies. All lies.I knew the truth. Or at least, part of it. Yes, my father worked for a front company, but he didn’t know. He struggled with PTSD, but he didn’t start that fire. And if anyone had a hand in the destruction of Dante’s warehouse, it was Vincenzo. I had no proof, just a strong gut feeling.But no one would listen.That’s why I decided to write my own article.I wasn’t naive enough to think the world would suddenly believe me. But I had to try, because if I didn’t, no one else would.Lucas had taken me to a secret location, as promised, and handed me a phone, warning me not to get caught.He didn’t need to tell me twice.